Needful Things
by Chapter14
Summary: When Derek Hale offered Isaac Lahey the bite, he thought he'd finally be strong enough to take control of his life...but it turns out the shift in power was not all he expected it to be. Talking to Stiles, he realizes the two have much more in common than he ever noticed. Stiles/Isaac
1. Chapter 1

Be nice, I haven't written fanfiction in well over a few years. Any reviews would be great; even if they're observations about grammar. All writing for me is basically practice.

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Isaac Lahey was an actor – he had been for quite some time. When Derek Hale approached him in the cemetery shortly after the Omega half scared him to death, offering a hand and a bite, a chance to take control of his life, to take the reins of his self into his own hands, he eagerly accepted. What were a few hunters to worry about when you had the strength to raise a fallen piece of machinery that weighed nearly a ton? What were a few hunters compared to the control Isaac would have over his own life? He would never have to bow to anyone again. He would never have to take another beating from his father or endure another night in that tight, cramped freezer, scratching at the walls until his nails cracked and his fingertips bled.

However, the power Derek offered him was deceptive. It was something he could only use in secrecy. It was power but the control of his life would never be fully his – he got over that illusion pretty damned quickly. The difference between his power and others' quickly came to light; the thrashing he received from Scott McCall in the ice-skating rink, the encounters with the hunters, the abuse administered by Derek while they were training, nearly being cut in half by Gerard, being stabbed repeatedly by Allison Argent, not being able to protect himself, Erica or Boyd from the Alpha pack – he couldn't even stand up to his own father after he received the bite, choosing to flee his home instead of dishing out the punishment he wanted so badly to give Lahey senior.

So Isaac had become an actor, and a damned good one. He put on a tough façade, an exterior shell of cockiness. Whoever saw him could swear that Isaac was fine. His smile was like a carapace. He recalled when he scratched the lockers with Erica and expertly threatened to kill Lydia in chemistry, telling Stiles with a twinge of sarcasm in his voice even the other teen would be jealous of. However, the truth was he didn't even know if he could've killed anyone, even if he were 100% sure he or she was the Kanima.

Isaac's acting wasn't flawless, however. His façade cracked every now and then, and he allowed his vulnerable exterior to show. Not a lot of people saw this though - Derek had on occasion, most specifically when Isaac had asked him about anchors for the change. And Isaac just couldn't pretend to be tough when Scott and Deaton had shown him how to use his powers to alleviate pain. He had been so shaken up by that demonstration that he'd even admitted to Scott that he was "lucky" because he had no one to protect. Isaac was just grateful Scott hadn't pushed him to talk more or brought it up later.

Well, at least he was somewhat grateful. All this pent-up anguish was not doing the beta well. Isaac was heavy hearted and felt like he was carrying the heaviest burden and it was crushing him. His chest felt hollow, as if someone had plucked his heart right out of it. Sometimes it felt like it had taken permanent residency in his stomach. His thoughts rarely strayed from the pack and the problems they felt on a daily basis. He missed when his greatest concern was when the next issue of his favorite comic book was coming out.

And of course, he was always thinking about how weak he really was.

Isaac still had his bike stored in a corner of Derek's lofty apartment and liked to take it out whenever he began to overthink these things. The past few days had been the epitome of dark for Isaac and Derek's pack – or what remained of them. Boyd had just been killed by the Alpha twins and Kali, and Derek was currently in a semi-catatonic state. Boyd had been nearly a brother to Isaac. He was Isaac's pack mate, he was Derek's third beta and technically the lanky teen's younger brother. Even if Isaac had been at Scott's for a while, he already missed Boyd on a daily basis.

Isaac decided to clear his head. He left Scott's without telling anyone exactly where he was going, as no one was home. He couldn't have responded in truth to his whereabouts anyways, he just wanted to get out. After aimlessly walking around for about half an hour, he mustered the courage to knock on the door to Derek's loft. His heart pounded in his chest, thrashing desperately against his ribs. He wasn't sure how his Alpha would react to him now. He sighed with relief when Peter opened the door.

"Isaac," he greeted the beta coolly. "It's nice to see you here. Do you wish to speak with Derek? I'm not quite sure how much speaking Derek is willing to do, however. My nephew's new hobby consists mainly of staring at the ceiling." Isaac swallowed dryly and shook his head no.

"I just came to grab my bike." Peter ushered him in, and he grabbed the bicycle, wary of the water stains on the floor and walls from the recently semi-flooded apartment. He wheeled the bicycle out the door. Peter silently followed him, and started sliding it back into place when Isaac stopped him.

"Is he okay?" Peter didn't need to be told Isaac was clearly inferring to Derek's state.

"No." He answered curtly. "His beta just died by his own hands. You're the only one left and you're not even here." Despite Peter and Derek's feuding over power, the uncle was clearly very protective of his nephew.

That was another thing Isaac failed at. He felt so small and weak – he couldn't even help Derek save Boyd. He couldn't even console his Alpha. He didn't have the smallest idea of how to start to. His swallowed over the lump in his throat and blinked as he tried not to tear up and Peter's sharp remark.

"I'm taking the bike to Scott's." Isaac mumbled, his voice hushed and to Peter, tinged with humility.

"Very well." Was Peter's response, sliding the door into place. "Have fun with young McCall." Isaac could hear it through the door with is augmented hearing. He wheeled the bike out to the street and hopped on, making his way to Scott's. He didn't want to go back, to have to put on his mask again, but he had nowhere to go and it was getting late. His legs pumped furiously, and for a few seconds Isaac missed the burn that used to accompany his frenzied pedaling. Nowadays, it was nearly effortless to ride the bike along at high speeds, even when using heavier gears. He was in front of the McCall household in barely any time, muttering a curse under his breath when Stiles' blue Jeep was parked in front of it. Scott left Isaac alone when he was quiet, yet Stiles' was the kind to pry and make sarcastic quips even if the beta growled he wanted to be left alone.

Isaac was so weak even Stiles wasn't afraid of him. He dropped the bike in the front yard, and as he reached out to open the front door, it swung on its hinges. Stiles and Ms. McCall yelped and jumped back as Isaac stood there, clearly not expecting him. Isaac grinned a bit at this – it made him feel slightly better – before stammering an apology.

"Isaac. You startled us." Melissa scolded him lightly. "Do you know where Scott is? Stiles came to see him but I just got in from a shift and have no idea where he could be."

Isaac shrugged and started to brush past them when Stiles reached out and grabbed him by the forearm.

"Are you sure you don't know where he is Isaac? I need to talk to him." His tone was urgent and his voice pleading. Isaac actually liked this desperate Stiles better than the sarcastic one. Seeing Stiles this down was making Isaac glum again. Still, it was comforting to know he wasn't the only person that was completely miserable tonight.

"I really don't know." He pulled his arm out of Stiles' grip and continued towards his room.

"Come with me look for him?" Stiles called out after Isaac. The young werewolf turned, eyeing the human quizzically. He pointed to himself and raised an eyebrow.

"Yes, you." Stiles scoffed and approached him. "I just don't wanna be there alone, and even a beta like you might make me feel safer." He smiled, but Isaac could tell that his heart was definitely not into it. Isaac tried to return a lopsided grin and ignored the quip. Melissa was eyeing him warily and looking absolutely exhausted, so Isaac figured it would be best to get out of her hair for a while.

"Okay." Isaac finally conceded solemnly. He joined Stiles in the blue Jeep and left Ms. McCall alone to relax. He wasn't quite at ease with Stiles, but their relationship had improved after he had given up on killing Lydia. Lacrosse had also helped with that as well, although Isaac, being wolfed out, was on the field a lot more than Stiles.

Isaac pulled the jeep's door open and for what he thought was the first time, climbed in next to Stiles. He was usually riding with Derek in the Camaro, and the Jeep surprised Isaac with the fact that it was much higher than the sports car. It also smelled differently – it smelled strongly of oil and rust, but also of Stiles. It wasn't a bad smell, but the beta didn't have time to process what he thought before he realized Stiles had started talking to him.

"I'm worried. Scott hasn't been answering his phone." Stiles bit his lip in an uncharacteristically preoccupied manner. "I need to speak with him."

"How many times has Scott not answered your calls, Stiles?" Isaac half grinned. "Whenever he's with Allison it happens. When you were in the pool with Derek almost drowning because of the Kanima he ignored you. To be frank, you're too nice about it. I would've definitely given Scott a hard time about that one." Stiles looked at him like he'd grown a second head.

"Thanks, that's helpful." His voice was tinged with sarcasm. "Plus, Allison and Scott aren't together anymore." Isaac shrugged.

"Even if Scott and _Allison_" he said the last name with as much distaste as he could muster, "aren't 'together' they're always around each other, talking and whatnot. " Isaac had already told Scott he didn't approve. Allison was a loose cannon. Her dad was dangerous and so was she. He remembered very distinctly getting hit by an arrow to the shoulder then slashed a couple of dozen times. The day she apologized Isaac had felt warmer towards her, especially as they played the prank on Aidan and Ethan, but Isaac was one to hold a grudge and he wasn't sure how long this one would last.

Stiles sighed in exasperation and pulled the Jeep to the curb. They were in the middle of nowhere, and Isaac had no idea where they were going. He looked around, trying to see if the stopping meant anything.

"Stiles, where are we? I don't think -" Isaac was cut off midsentence as the other teen opened the door to the Jeep and got out. Isaac followed, more perplexed than angry. He was also slightly annoyed by Stiles cryptic mannerisms this particular night.

"Stiles? Stiles?" By the time he got out of the Jeep the other teen had made his way to the other side of the road and walked through the woods to the clearing. Isaac suddenly realized where they were – it was the clearing that overlooked most of Beacon Falls, where Isaac, Scott, Derek, and Chris Argent had planned to entrap Boyd and Cora in the school. Stiles hadn't been here that night though, and Isaac had never returned. He found Stiles sitting on a rock that had a great view, but even as he approached from a distance he could hear Stilinski breathing heavily, coughing and hiccupping.

Isaac debated whether he should get closer and see what was happening with Stiles, if he should comfort him or leave him alone or what. He tried to remember what he craved when he felt down. He remembered Scott's arm on his, telling him to be careful when trying to inject Jackson. He remembered Deaton's arm on his, when showing him how to take away pain. He decided Stiles should at least have the same, someone there to comfort him, as trivial as Isaac was to Stiles.

He approached Stiles, who was sitting on the rock and still breathing heavily.

"Stiles? Stiles, how can I help?" The first time he saw Stiles' look of panic at the McCall residence, he felt a short burst of glee. Now he was genuinely worried at the boy's uncustomary behavior. He had never seen Stiles remotely like this. For the first time, Isaac considered that Stiles might don his sarcasm the way Isaac donned his tough façade as a mask. That Stiles was just as scared and vulnerable as he was. All this went through his mind as Stiles tried to regain his breath. The teen wiped his eyes on the back of his long sleeves, and hiccupped a few more times before clearing his throat. His eyes were still moist.

"Go ahead, call me a cry baby or something. I shouldn't have asked you to come anyways." Isaac was slightly offended that Stiles thought him that heartless. The association wasn't hard to make, he realized, when your alpha is Derek Hale and you've put on a cocky show yourself. But Stiles should know better, he had seen Isaac submerged and cowering in ice water, trying to recall where he had found Erica and Boyd. Then, he'd seen the beta under the bed, freaking out over a wolfsbane hallucination. He told Stiles so.

"So what if you get freaked out every once in a while?" His voice cracked and was filled with contempt. Isaac realized that it wasn't directed at him, but rather at himself. "You have strength. You have the power to change things."

Isaac smiled sadly. "Do you really believe that?" Stiles nodded fervently, and Isaac turned to Stiles, a question in his eyes.

"Then why didn't you take the bite? When Peter offered it to you." Stiles looked at him like he was crazy, like it was a crazy thing to ask.

"It was Peter. He was a murderer. I don't know, he still may be one." Stiles looked at the horizon and a laughing tone crept into his voice. "Plus you know, my dad. I'm not that fucked up that I'd take the bite like that." Stiles quickly realized his mistake when Isaac looked at him, slight hurt is his eyes.

"Sorry," he apologized. Isaac shrugged. It was true, after all. He sighed.

"What I'm saying is, the bite doesn't solve anything. Power is an illusion. It is what you make of it." Isaac's voice lowered. "And if you haven't noticed, I haven't made the best use of it. The only time I've ever managed to beat up and Alpha is when he let me."

"But you don't have panic attacks. You don't feel like you're drowning all the time. I don't want to let the water in, but every second I hold my breath, it hurts more and more." Stiles' faced the opposite direction Isaac was in. "Ms. Morell quoted Churchill last time we talked. But I don't want to go through hell anymore. Scott is my friend and I'll do what it takes to help him, but I don't _want _this."

Isaac's hand tentatively crept towards Stiles' shoulder, and it hovered there, in mid-air, for a few seconds while Isaac decided if Stiles' would welcome the contact or not. He surely wanted to comfort the teen, and in a strange way he knew he would also be comforted by the reassurance that Stiles' was real and there, and they could rely on each other for that little while, at least. Stiles flinched when he felt the hand on his shoulder, but he relaxed into Isaac's touch, and turned around to stare into the beta's eyes.

The boys exchanged a silent and mutual thank you. Stiles leaned into Isaac, his back nuzzling his right arm and part of his chest. The human exhaled, and once again he relaxed – Isaac could tell by the amount of weight he put onto Isaac's body.

For the first time in a long while, both felt at peace. The silence in the woods, the soft light from Beacon Hills glowing in the background, the feel of their chests rising and falling, and the steady drumming of their heartbeats was enough. The hand that was on Stiles' left shoulder moved to his hair, and Isaac smoothed it down, taming it where Stiles had pulled it during the panic attack. Instinctively, Stiles melted even more into Isaac, his head leaning back. He looked into Isaac's eyes, and before he knew what he was doing, the beta leaned forward and locked their lips together. Isaac's left hand propped up Stiles' head, and his right found Stiles' throat, caressing it softly as they kissed. It seemed like it lasted forever, but Stiles' broke it off after a few seconds, and pushed Isaac away.

"Uh. Isaac. I, um… I." A blush crept up Stiles' neck and face, and he stammered nervously. "I have to go."

Isaac nodded silently, staring at the ground, looking everywhere but at Stilinski. Stiles muttered a hushed 'bye,' and walked away. The beta could feel Stiles' heart racing, but instead focused on the leaves crunching under his feet and the sound his footsteps made as Stiles made his way to the Jeep. The ignition turned and it roared to life, and Isaac bit his lip. He wasn't sure if what he did had been right or wrong. Wouldn't have Stiles reacted more positively if the feeling had been mutual? Isaac just didn't know.

It was only after the sound of the Jeep had faded away and the silence had returned that Isaac noticed that his heart was beating fast, faster than he had ever experienced due to pain, or fright, or nervousness. It was pure bliss, and Isaac knew.

For him, it'd been the rightest thing he could've ever done. But the question remained; what was going through Stiles' head?

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And there we go. I want to make this an ongoing thing, shaping it around the show rather than going out around my tangent universe. But we'll see, whatever feels better will work. If anyone wants to beta or leave a review, that'd be great. Is the writing style a little too cold? Let me know, thanks in advance.


	2. Chapter 2

So, this is a short one, but I think I put everything I wanted to in here. Thanks to everyone that read and reviewed the last chapters, and whoever favorited as well. Hope you enjoy this one!

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**Chapter 2**

Stiles felt detached. His body was driving his car, but his mind was on autopilot. He shifted gears automatically, his left foot pressing the clutch in, and right hand moving the gearstick. His eyes were on the road, but he could only focus slightly on it. It was good that it was late and Beacon Hills didn't have a lot of nocturnal drivers, for Stiles was certainly out of it. And while he made his way home in silence, driving the blue Jeep down the road, only one thought raced through his mind.

Isaac Lahey had kissed him.

And most of all, Stiles had let him. He had been vulnerable, of course, but that was no excuse to simply melt into Isaac like that. He and the beta had their rough patches, but Stiles considered him a good friend. However, he had not quite thought about Isaac like that. He did admire him in a strange form, he admitted to himself. Isaac seemed to have all the self-confidence in the world, and he wasn't wrong to either. The teen was charming and handsome with that half-cocked grin of his, and he had the most sincere smiles – when he actually did smile, which wasn't often. He was also the owner of a lean build, pale and smooth skin rippling with muscles underneath the surface, which Stiles couldn't help but take peaks at while in the locker room, or when Isaac had shed his shirt in Deaton's clinic.

And yes, Stiles was aware that at the time it was inappropriate considering the circumstances, but he couldn't blame his raging hormones, right?

A sudden blaring pulled Stiles out of his fog, and he barely had time to slam down on the brakes as a car sped past him at the intersection. When Stiles looked up, the light was red. He started the Jeep up again, and cursed under his breath. Isaac had not only kissed him, but all the thinking Stiles was doing about him had nearly caused him to crash.

Or, you know, Stiles should pay more attention to his driving. Blaming Isaac was much easier though.

Stiles was soon pulling into his driveway and parking behind his father's car. He checked the time on his phone and rolled his eyes. It was astounding that his father hadn't called him yet. With everything going on recently, sheriff Stilinski had been extra protective of his only son. Stiles didn't blame him though; they were all each other had. If anything ever happened to his father, he wouldn't know what to do. In fact, that was the only reason he hadn't involved his father with the werewolf feuds by telling him the truth about Scott, Derek, and the pack.

"You're late." The sheriff wasted no time and announced it as soon as Stiles had walked through the door and softly clicked it behind him. "Calling me every now and then wouldn't hurt."

Stiles started to stammer out an explanation, but glared at his father, who was sitting on the dinner table with paperwork and what Stiles was so displeased to see, a wrapper for a hamburger and a carton of fries. Both empty.

"I was out dad. You have my number." He sighed. "A burger and fries? Really?" Stiles tried to tinge his voice with as much annoyance and disappointment as he could muster.

"Nice try kid, but I'm the father, remember? Also, my chef wasn't home and you know I have no idea how to work anything around that kitchen." The sheriff stood up and grabbed his son, embracing him.

"It's okay, though. I won't do it again. Or not until next week at least." The sheriff solemnly promised to which Stiles rolled his eyes and hugged his father back.

"Not that I dislike it dad, but what's with all the hugging?" His father's embrace had become painfully tight.

"All the disappearances and murders have me on edge, kid. Sorry. Also, I called Scott's house and Melissa told me you had been there and gone out with Isaac, so you're off the hook today. But make sure to call me next time and let me know, okay?"

At the mention of Isaac, Stiles pushed away from his father and started up the stairs to his room. The sheriff's brow furrowed and he called out after his son.

"Did I say something wrong, kid?" Stiles stopped in the middle of the stairs, in mid step, and turned around to face his father.

"No dad, I'm sorry if I made it seems like it was your fault. I'm just really tired and have to get up early for school tomorrow." He resumed his ascent. Sheriff Stilinksi shrugged and started to bundle his wrappers on the table. Duty called and it was gruesome; the sheriff was not content to go back to his case files and paperwork.

"Dad?" Stiles called from the top of the stairs.

"Yeah kid? Anything wrong?" The sheriff sensed no urgency in Stiles' voice but ever seem Stiles had been recommended to the school guidance counselor John took extra care with the most precious person in his life.

"No dad, nothing's wrong. I just have a question." John senses hesitance in his son's voice. "When I was at the gay club, with Danny, remember?" He didn't wait for his dad to answer and continued.

"What if I was gay? What if I was Danny's date or something?" Stiles was pretty sure his dad wouldn't care, but it'd be good hearing his dad's opinion before locking himself in his room with his thoughts so he could make his decision.

"Stupid question, Stiles." John's voice was hard. Stiles couldn't see his father, and he flinched. "How could you ever consider I'd ever feel anything towards you but love? You're my son, goddamnit. I love you no matter who you love." The last words were filled with tenderness.

"But why ask the question, Stiles? You already know-" John was interrupted by the sound of Stiles' door closing upstairs. He smiled and shook his head.

"Sometimes I just do not get that kid."

Stiles kicked off his shoes and sprawled on the bed, the thoughts of Isaac suddenly flooding his mind again. His father had only mentioned the beta and it had been enough to send the teen back into his foggy thoughts.

What Isaac and Stiles had shared was a moment, and a kiss that was so chaste it didn't have anything remotely sexual about it. The teen ran his fingers through his hair and sighed. What would it be like when he saw Isaac again? At school, at a pack meeting? At Derek's, on the lacrosse field? How would it be, would anything have changed? The kiss had raised a lot of questions for Stiles, and answered nearly none. There was only one thing Stiles was sure of – the kiss had felt right in that moment. Isaac's lips had felt right then and there, coming back from that panic attack that the beta had coached him out of.

But did Isaac feel the same? Would it still be that way tomorrow? And the day after tomorrow? Stiles honestly didn't know, and he was nearly sure the werewolf didn't either.

Stiles just knew he wanted to find out, he wanted more. He thought about Isaac's lips on his again and his heart fluttered in his chest.

"Damn you, Lahey." He sighed breathily, before turning onto his side and trying to fall asleep.

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Thanks for reading through! Next chapter will follow the conclusion of last week's episode, i.e., Stiles' father will have just been kidnapped by the Darach. It'll be angsty and a good one, hopefully. Reviews mean the world to me, and feel free to critique my writing. I need all the help I can get.


	3. Chapter 3

**Another shorty, but sweetie. I wanted to solve this thing before getting into the angsty bit with Papa Stiles being missing and all.**

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**Chapter 3**

Stiles felt someone nudging him awake. He did his best to ignore it, hoping that if he didn't respond to the stimulus, whoever it was would just go away and let him sleep a little longer. Stiles' hopes were unfounded however, and his assailant continued to relentlessly poke him.

"Wake up." The whisper's tone was urgent, and Stiles couldn't quite place the voice to any person. His state of semi-stupor from the awakening had made him confused.

"Go away dad. I'll get up in a bit." Behind his mumble there was thinly masked contempt, as if waking the boy had an equal weight to killing a puppy, or slapping a child in the face.

"Wake up. Now. We need to talk." The voice sounded a bit sheepish, as if slightly ashamed it were waking up Stiles at all. Or as if he didn't belong there. Even though he was practically asleep, Stiles' recognized slight hesitation before the next sentence, the one that woke him up and made him sit upright in bed, shocked.

"It's Isaac." The voice admitted, before rushing forward to clamp a hand over Stiles' mouth as he started to yell for his dad.

"Stiles, shut it. I'm here to talk, not to hurt you." The whispered tones were urgent, and even in the pitch black of the room, Stiles could see Isaac's yellow irises, set in a face making the best puppy dog impression Stiles had ever seen. He softened for a moment, and Isaac's hand moved away from his mouth.

"Are you crazy?" the teen whispered fiercely. "You're in my room! In the middle of the night!"

Isaac's grin was half-cocked and there was laughter in his voice.

"If you want to get technical, it's the middle of the morning." His grin faded as Stiles' eyes widened as he stared at his clock and saw the time, 3:12 a.m. The veins in his neck bulged and his eyes were so large Isaac though they'd pop out of his skull.

"Talk. Now." His voice was strained and Isaac could tell that Stiles wanted to scream and throw him out. The werewolf took note to never, ever wake up Stiles in the middle of the night again. It just wasn't worth it.

"Look." Isaac started, lowering his eyes to the floor and wringing his hands. "What happened before…" He got that far before the other teen interrupted.

"Look, it was a kiss. It happened. Let it go. It doesn't mean we're boyfriends or anything." Stiles looked down and saw he had fallen asleep in his jeans and sneakers and well as a long sleeved shirt. He grumbled and stood up, pulling the shirt over his head and dropping it to the floor. He rummaged through his drawers and pulled on a soft white cotton shirt, and started unbuckling his pants before realizing Isaac was still there.

"You can leave now." Stiles mumbled, before deciding to continue what he was doing, and dropping the jeans around his knees. Before he knew it, Isaac was behind him, and Stiles turned around to face the wolf, suddenly self-conscious he was in nothing but boxers. Isaac looked confused.

"Just leave?" He bit his lip, looked down at Stiles' semi nudity, and looked back up to his eyes. "I can't. It wasn't just a kiss and you know that." Isaac turned around and paced the room, giving the distraught Stiles time to pull on a pair of sweatpants.

"At least I think it wasn't." The wolf buried his hands in the pocket of his jeans and turned to Stiles once more, this time on the other side of the room, feeling the cold breeze wafting in from the window Isaac had without a doubt climbed into while he was slumbering.

"I know we've had our rough patches. I was kind of a dick when Derek bit me." Isaac offered.

"Kind of?" Stiles shot back, mimicking quotation marks with his fingers. The teen gave a wide grin this time. "You were a total dick." Isaac rolled his eyes before conceding.

"Fine, I was a bit of a dick." If Stiles noticed the difference in the way Isaac worded it, he didn't say. "But we've had some good moments too, right?" He bit his lip.

"Tonight was…?" Isaac let his voice trail off, hoping Stiles would complete it for him. The other teen's smirk was wiped off his face immediately and Stiles sat on his bed, cradling his head between his hands.

"I don't know." Stiles' muttered. "I don't know what tonight was."

Isaac paced again, wringing his hands and with a look on his face, as if debating whether he should ask a question, knowing that if the answer wasn't what he wanted to hear he'd most likely be disappointed. Yet he and Stiles couldn't remain at this stalemate forever, and with all the musing Isaac was prone to have, leaving this question unasked would most likely drive him crazy in a matter of days.

"Did you…" Isaac began, flushing scarlet. He stammered the last bit. "Like it? Today, what we did?" He couldn't look at Stiles, didn't even look his way, dreading a sarcastic response or waiting for Stiles to make fun of him.

The silence stretched between them, taut. Stiles remained on the bed, Isaac facing the wall, back to the other teen. Isaac observed Stiles' posters as his heart pounded in his ribs, and every second seemed like an eternity. He saw The Offspring and The Ramones, and thoughts flickered through his head. _'Not even out taste in music is the same, what were you thinking Isaac?' _He thought how Stiles would make fun of him for liking Belle and Sebastian or Coldplay.

Isaac was so lost in his thoughts that he didn't even hear Stiles answer him. He turned and faced the other teen, who looked straight ahead, staring past Isaac and looking resigned. Isaac did a double take.

"What did you just say?" Isaac had expected a lot of things, but he hadn't quite expected Stiles to say that. He had assumed that the infatuation he was feeling right now was completely one sided, that Stiles' had related to what he had told to him near the city's overlook, that the kiss had been a mistake and they were friends and nothing more.

He never had thought that Stiles might actually reciprocate. He had never thought that the other teen could see him as a potential…_something. _Erica hadn't. Cora hadn't. So why would Stiles, strong Stiles, always joking and laughing and brave even if he had no powers to protect him want to even associate with someone like him?

"I said yes." Stiles voice was barely a whisper, soft and airy. He turned and faced Isaac, this time resolute.

"I was thinking about it all night." Before Isaac could grin and make a joke, Stiles turned and added, "Get over yourself, I was thinking about what this is, not your kiss." Isaac still smirked.

"And it was nice." Stiles blushed slightly. Isaac gave him credit for that, as he would be scarlet for thinking that, let alone saying it to Stiles.

And suddenly, the silence was there again, but this time even more awkward. What were they supposed to do? Two boys of 17 and juniors in high school, trying to figure out what to do in a case like this. It was laughable.

Isaac moved towards the bed and Stiles held out his hand, palms out, signaling a stop.

"Whoa whoa whoa, you can stay right there wolf-boy." He half smiled nervously. "I know I'm a regular stud muffin (Stiles pointed to the blue tee he was donning which said so) but you're not allowed to just jump on my bed and make out with me every chance you get."

Isaac blushed but kept moving, and sat down next to Stiles.

"You're an idiot." Isaac said through clenched teeth. "I just want to be closer. To talk."

"The blushing's endearing, Lahey. It kind of gives you a nice rosy complexion." Stiles joked, this time in full grin. Isaac stood up; grumbling he knew this had been a mistake. Stiles' hand immediately shot out, grabbing the other teen's forearm through the beaten leather jacket.

"Look, I'm sorry. You know how I am with sarcasm." He pulled Isaac's arm once more. "Sit down. Please." Isaac looked at the window, which was certainly inviting to him right now, but huffed and sat back down next to Stiles.

"Look, I don't know how to do…" He pointed at Isaac and himself. "This. Me. You."

"Well, neither do I." Isaac mumbled, looking down. Stiles sighed and tried a more direct approach. His hand reached out and touched Isaac's cheek, and the werewolf nearly flinched away, shying from the touch.

"What are you…" He began, but Stiles interrupted.

"Well, we've been beating around the bush forever, huh?" His voice was low, yet Stiles still swallowed nervously. "I told you, I liked it. It's not exactly a cue, but…"

Isaac suddenly realized what the other teen meant, and agreed with Stiles. All this beating around the bush was driving him crazy. He hadn't known what to do, but Stiles' hand on his cheek and the words spoken gave him a pretty good idea. He nuzzled Stiles' hand, and brought his own to the back of Stiles neck. His heart felt like a caged bird about to fly from his chest, yet Isaac drew Stiles closer and for the second time in less than twelve hours, the two boy's lips touched. Except this time, Stiles didn't push away and drive off, he actually kissed Isaac back rather than just accepting it.

It seemed like forever, but the boys eventually pushed apart. They just looked at each other for a few seconds, before bursting into smiles.

They kissed again.

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**Thanks for reading through! Reviews mean the world to me, and feel free to critique my writing. I need all the help I can get.**


	4. Chapter 4

**Thanks to everyone that has taken the time to favorite, read, and review! I'm trying to write as fast as I can to catch up with the show, but I suck. Kind of had to change the canon in this one because Isaac and Stiles are seriously lacking some chemistry in the show AND THAT MAKES ME SAD.**

Will try to write faster, longer, and add more action and stuff. If possible, drop me a review and give me prompts and suggestions. I'm not the most creative person. Enjoy!

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**Chapter 4**

It hadn't been a good week for Isaac and Stiles, let alone a good day. The boys had just sat down for lunch and Stiles was telling Isaac everything that had happened concerning the recent events with the Darach.

"So, Lydia _felt _it." He told the werewolf. "I don't know what she is Isaac, but she's definitely something. Ever since what happened at the hotel, with her being able to hear and anticipate what happened…"

Isaac remembered how Lydia had found Boyd drowning and himself cowering under the bed, caught in a fever dream caused by the wolfsbane poisoning the Darach had managed to orchestrate by filling the coach's whistle with the stuff. She and Stiles had managed to come up with a way to snap them out of it and for that Isaac had been grateful at the time. Now it just embarrassed him when he was reminded that Stiles had saved him.

"Did I ever thank you for that?" Isaac stared at his upturned palms laying on the cafeteria table, a discarded yogurt and plastic spoon on either side of them. Stiles was absent mindedly picking a design into the plastic with his car keys while they talked. Isaac could've just reached over and taken Stiles hand in his if he so desired.

"You didn't have to thank me." Stiles offered, etching with more fervor, suddenly embarrassed. "You're my friend; I was doing what friends do. We saved Scott and Boyd too."

Isaac knew Stiles had a point, that they had no obligations to each other at the time, that they barely had begun to develop feelings back then, but he still felt compelled to say it.

"Still, thank you. Now, what about Lydia?" Isaac urged the other teen to continue the story. He also wanted to ask Stiles why he hadn't been called to go to the school at night, but he knew that being a member of Derek's pack meant he was yet far from the core of the four-way friendship between Scott, Stiles, Allison, and Lydia. They had taken down their first threat together, and Isaac had only recently become…_something _to Stiles.

"Right." Stiles shook his head, and resumed the story. "She was there, on the sign, all covered in blood. Skull bashed in, garroted, throat slashed. I'm surprised that school was even open today in light of the recent events. Oh well, I suppose everyone is already used to creepy things happening around here. I suppose one more death was no reason for alarm."

Stiles smiled sadly.

"My dad's freaking out. One of his was killed, and the FBI's coming in." Stiles' eyes widened as he realized that he had blurted that out.

"Don't tell anyone else. My dad would get in trouble if this got out." He said sheepishly. "I've only mentioned it to Scott."

Isaac puffed up at the thought that Stiles had just shared a secret with him, even if it was on account of his big mouth rather than of his own volition. He knew something that only Scott and Sherriff Stilinski knew – one was Stiles' father and the other his best friend of many years.

Isaac knew he was being foolish, but he didn't care. This was Stiles, after all.

"No problem." Isaac said through a smile. "Where is Scott, by the way?"

Stiles' brow furrowed, as if wondering if he should disclose the information with Isaac. The werewolf took notice of it, and hoped Stiles would. Divulging 'secret' information with Isaac, things he and Scott shared, intricacies in their plans, meant that Stiles trusted him. Isaac nearly half expected it not to happen, as they had only really been seeing each other for a few days and after the talk in the bedroom they nearly limited themselves to kissing and cuddling (excluding during school hours, of course).

"With Ms. Morrell." He said, after a slight moment's hesitation. "He's trying to find out if she's the Darach or not. We're almost sure she's not, but it would be best to rule out the possibility. Take no chances."

Isaac nodded, shaking his head in agreement. Chances were not something to be taken lightly in Beacon Hills.

"Has Cora gotten any better?" To this question, Stiles' shrugged.

"Derek has kept me in the dark, but I assume she's okay since he hasn't texted me." Isaac bit his lip and Stiles' made a note of how cute he looked. "I'm worried."

"You really like Cora, don't you?" Stiles' might've felt a pang of jealousy, but shook it off. Possessiveness after three days wasn't exactly an attractive thing. At least he thought it wasn't – Isaac probably would've found it endearing more than anything.

"Yeah. She's like a sister to me. I hope nothing too serious happens." His brow furrowed and Stiles' was slightly glad to hear that what was going on between Isaac and Cora was nothing more than some fraternal preoccupation.

"Yeah, same pack. And all." Isaac nodded once again.

They sat in silence for a while, Isaac still looking at his upturned palms and Stiles etching at the table. Their silences were sometimes awkward, and sometimes comfortable. This one was the former, and it felt like Stiles wanted to say something but quite couldn't. Isaac knew what Stiles was thinking, and could relate. He was scared, scared for his father – the woman that had been killed was part of the force. Stiles' was also too proud to say so, at least in front of Isaac.

"I'm scared, though." Isaac said softly. "It was a nasty blow with that weight. I hope it didn't give her any lasting damage." He hoped opening up would give Stiles ground to do so as well.

"You, scared?" Stiles' scoffed. "If you're scared, imagine me. I can't even try and do anything to stop the Darach." Isaac shook his head fervently, disagreeing.

"You're the brains, Stiles. I'm just the brawn. A lot of the plans and research are yours. If anyone can figure this out, it's you." Isaac reached over and took Stiles' hand, despite the public setting. Once again he found his heart beating like a machine gun, pushing itself against his ribs as if trying to break free from restraints. Stiles tensed for a second than relaxed. He let go of the keys he was doodling with and opened Isaac's hand, tracing the lines along it, and finally pressing his palm to the beta's.

"Thanks. I'm just worried about my dad. He's everything to me." He looked at the hands on the table with a soft expression.

"And if you don't figure it out, I'll be there. He's your dad…he's the most important person to someone important to me." Isaac said it quick and hushed, his ears turning red at the look on Stiles' face.

"Thanks." Stiles' managed to stammer, his grip tightening on Isaac's hand. His eyes were moist, and Isaac suddenly felt a sinking in his chest. He had made Stiles' cry.

"Hey there Stiles! Isaac." Danny plopped down on the seat next to the teen, who quickly let go of Isaac's hand and used his sleeve to wipe his eyes. Confusion was written on Danny's face plainly.

"So are we still up for lab work this weekend?" He said tentatively. "I'm sorry, did I come at a bad time?" He directed the question to Isaac, but it was Stiles who turned around and answered.

"Yeah, we're all set." He grinned at Danny.

"Great!" Danny answered. "We're behind and need to catch up. I just thought we might as well finish up the whole unit's work, to get it out of the way."

Stiles nodded his agreement and Danny seemed satisfied.

"Oh, and Stiles?" Danny asked, getting up to leave the table. "Should I be jealous?"

The question was vague but Stiles and Isaac knew exactly what Danny meant. The silence the question elicited from both teens made Danny grin and laugh lightly. This just caused Isaac to stammer and Stiles to blush.

"Calm down you two, don't burst a blood vessel. You'd think you two were mortally sinning or something." Danny's expression softened and he turned to the two teens.

"I'm happy for you guys, really. Stiles deserves someone nice. And you definitely are _nice_, aren't you Isaac?" Danny winked and left the two boys alone in their stupor. Isaac looked mortified but Stiles burst out laughing, and it was infectious. Soon Isaac was giggling, then guffawing.

Everyone around them looked at the two like they were crazy, but they didn't mind. This was Beacon Hills after all; crazy was the least of their worries.

"Isaac!" The beta turned as someone called his name. His first hope was immediately that it was Stiles ( Isaac knew that it was silly of him to think of Stiles' with that amount of frequency; he had no illusion he was seriously infatuated), he knew the timbre of voice belonged to someone else, Scott McCall. Scott had taken upon himself to look after Isaac when he was recently turned, and had become one of the beta's greatest friends. When no one else had cared (let's face it, Derek was not always a model alpha), Scott had showed him the brighter side of being werewolf, showed concern when Isaac faced the Kanima, and even given him a home when Derek had told him to leave.

Scott was like a brother, and not to mention Stiles' best friend.

"Hey Scott!" The beta greeted him warmly. "How can I help?"

Scott had a look on his face like he didn't want to ask Isaac to do this, but at the same time he knew he needed to ask, and he knew Isaac would accept. To say that Isaac owed Scott a favor would be an understatement. He wouldn't hesitate to do – almost – anything Scott asked.

"Umm, you see." He scratched his head. "There's no easy way to say this." Scott signed and Isaac new he wouldn't like this.

"Yeah?"

"Allison isn't here." Even Scott's tone was apologetic. "Can you go and check up on her?"

Isaac was quiet for a moment. He had just said something to Stiles that involved him keeping an eye out on him and his dad. With the dead police officer, he knew the teen was worried that the Sherriff might be the next sacrifice.

"Yeah, Scott. I can. She'll most likely tell me she'll take care of herself, but I'll stick around." Isaac shoved his hands in his pockets and tried to think how he could help Stiles as well as check up on Allison.

"Great man, thanks!" Scott turned to leave, but Isaac's hand shot out and grabbed Scott's shoulder. He grimaced when Scott turned around, the question already forming in his eyes.

"You need to do me a favor too, though." Scoot stared at him quizzically, an implicit "_go on_."

"It's about Stiles." Isaac began. In each moment that passed things became more confusing to Scott – what did his friend want to tell him about his best friend?

"He may not have mentioned it," Isaac continued, "but he's worried about his dad. Can you just...keep an eye on them for me? Stiles and the Sherriff?" Before Scott had the chance to ask why, Isaac told him.

"I just promised him. We were talking earlier. I'll tell you more later."

Scott nodded his agreement, voiding the beta's concern.

"Stiles is my friends, the Sherriff is like a dad to me. Don't worry; I'm keeping an eye out on them." Scott said firmly. "Also, thanks for asking me. I know Stiles doesn't tell me thing sometimes…I think he's embarrassed."

Isaac just nodded and gathered his stuff, ready to leave.

"Isaac, Allison, we need to go now!" The two teens followed Chris Argent into the car, briskly closing the doors as the older Argent floored the gas pedal, the wheels screeching against the pavement and the car lurching forward.

"We need to go to the school!" Allison blurted, "The teachers-"

"Are all going to be there. I know." Of course Chris Argent knew. He was Gerard's son, after all. And if there was one thing he had memorized recently, it was the Darach's patterns. Another teacher was due for death. He told Allison and Isaac so.

"It's philosophers, not guardians."

Isaac was instantly relieved. Stiles' father wasn't in danger, or at least he didn't think so. As far as he knew, the Sherriff hadn't had a background in teaching.

Isaac was relieved when they got to the auditorium, on edge only for the teacher and not thinking much of Stiles in danger or the Sherriff.

Then the scream came, piercing the night and making every werewolf in the premises cringe. It felt like an omen, a presage. It felt like death and deep down, Isaac knew who that scream belonged to.

It was Lydia.

Isaac reached the door as the Darach – as their English teacher, Jennifer Blake – threw the desk into it, sealing him and Stiles out. He watched the teenage boy frantically throw himself against the door, as the three most important people in the world to him lay at the dark druid's mercy.

The werewolf couldn't quite see what was going on, but he could hear some of the things Ms. Blake was saying – "Maybe I should've started with philosophers, with knowledge and strategy. Healers. Warriors. Guardians. Virgins."

Stiles managed to push the door in, the desk screeching as it slid across the floor, but at that moment one sound overpowered all the others. The thing that Ms. Blake was, the Darach – it let out an inhuman roar which was followed by a sound Isaac knew too well. Glass broke as Stiles rushed into the room which was now only occupied by Scott and Lydia.

The space where the panes of glass were was now empty, and Stiles stood facing them.

"Dad?" He let out the word with such melancholy in his voice that it cut Isaac deeply.

He dropped to his knees and picked up the bent Sherriff's badge, cradling it in his palms like it was gold, and incense, and myrrh. Like it was a precious lifeline. Like it was all he had.

"Stiles…" Isaac's hand reached out and he touched the boy lightly on the shoulder. Stiles shrugged the hand off like he had been touched by a burning brand and whirled to face the beta.

"You were supposed to be here!" Stiles shoved Isaac, but the words hurt more than anything physical had ever hurt Isaac.

"You were supposed to protect him!" He bellowed this time, his voice threatening to break as his eyes overflowed. "Why weren't you here?"

Isaac just looked at the ground, biting his lip, his head hung in shame.

"Stiles, come on." Scott pulled him by the arm. "We need to do something. Deaton, then Derek. Before she gets there."

Isaac was still dead in the middle of the room when everyone left. When Allison walked into the room to find him, he was softly crying.

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**There we have it. More angst after the hospital and we'll have to see if I'll stray more from the canon after Monday's episode. Isaac needs more love, just sayin'.**


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